


Tidings of Comfort

by Issay



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Boys Being Boys, Christmas Fluff, Epic Friendship, Everyone Is Alive, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5506436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Issay/pseuds/Issay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing they never tell you about families is this: you get to pick your own. Blood and tradition are nothing without love and respect. Love and respect don't need blood and tradition to be real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tidings of Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolveheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolveheart/gifts).



> My prompt was:   
> Band of Bros: everyone being in brotherly love with each other. Maybe High School AU, maybe neighbors AU, maybe Space AU, I'll leave it up to the author, as long as it works with an 'everyone lives' tag I'm happy.  
> Rated for language and implied child abuse (nothing graphic!).  
> Since it's my first real AU - hope you like it and have lovely Christmas :)

There is a number of things they never tell you about high school. Like the fact that it's going to be the best and at the same time the worst, most confusing time of your life. That you'll find your weaknesses, that you'll hurt and cry and have your heart broken for the first time. That it's the time you'll fall in love and it's going to be the strangest, most wonderful pain you've ever known.  
And they don't tell you that if you're one of the lucky ones, you'll meet people who will become your family and who will love you no matter what. For the rest of your life.

"There's this kid I'm worried about," says Winters, the new History guy, over a cup of coffee in the staff room, slowly looking from one teacher to another. Speirs seemingly ignores him but Richard already knows it's just a pose and he's actually listening. Nix makes a polite, interested sound and Welsh raises his eyebrows.  
"In your class?"  
Winters nods.  
"One I teach, he's a junior. His name is Blithe. Albert, I think."  
"And what as you so worried?" asks Nixon, dark liquid in his cup smells like Irish coffee. Winters decides to ignore it. Even the best need a pick-me-up and it's already after hours.   
"He's constantly unfocused, twitchy, sometimes hysterical when I ask him a question. Almost had a panic attack today. I think I've seen some bruises on his arm..."  
"He's in Lipton's class, you should talk to him," mutters Speirs. Nix snickers but refuses to explain. Much later Winters learns that there's a betting pool on the couple, not that he's going to bet.  
"Yeah, Car's good people. If something's going on, he'll know."  
And so, following Harry's advice, Richard finds himself entering the class of one Carwood Lipton, geography professor and probably the most loved teacher in the whole Patton High.

That's one other thing they never tell you about high schools, even when you're an adult: teaching is actually the easy part. Everything that comes with it? Not so much.

"Lipton?" Richard smiles at the man who looks up from papers he's been grading. Carwood Lipton has kind eyes, he decides. Kind but sad and tired. Sign of a true teacher, then. "Sorry to interrupt but I need to run something by you. I'm..."  
"Winters, Sobel's replacement. Yeah, I know. Please, come on in," clearly distracted, he shows the other teacher an empty chair standing next to his own desk. "What can I do for you?"  
Winters leaves the entrance and sits, leaving the door open. It's late afternoon, the Patton High School, district's only school specialized in dealing with more problematic youth, is empty and quiet.  
Or at least it seems to be that way.  
"There's a student in your class by the name of Blithe, nice kid but shy and terrified. Is there something going on at home? Or maybe even at school?"  
Lipton smiles sadly with something similar to pain in the corners of his lips.  
"Forgive me for being so blunt - except for abusive asshole of a father? Mom is out of the picture, kid is too scared to even admit that daddy dearest beats him up and social services are thoroughly disinterested. Albert never said anything but I've met his father. You know the type, big bald bully who thinks no one has the right to tell him how to raise his son."  
Winters' shoulders visibly sink at that and for a second Lip feels relieved that he is not the only peron who has noticed Blithe's behavior and that he is not the only one enraged by the system's failure.  
"So we can't really do anything?"  
"Unfortunately, no," Carwood smiles apologetically. Suddenly something draws his attention, movement in the corner of his vision, somewhere by the door. "Unless Blithe himself comes to us for help, we can only wait. And maybe hope that other students notice it too and protect the boy, as little as they can."  
Then he does his best not to acknowledge the sound of two pairs of feet, rapidly speeding off in another direction. Winters only smiles, openly and with warmth.

"Remind me again, why do we even care? It's not like we even know the kid..."  
"Liebgott, stop being an asshole," from the sound of it, Webster is talking through his teeth. Before the other boy has a chance to open his mouth and answer, Babe grabs a chair and takes a seat between the two. Even Web and Lieb, the most volatile duo in the group, know better than to exchange verbal punches over Heffron's head, let alone real ones. Mostly because Gene Roe has a very good right hook and he's not afraid to use it. And to mess with Babe means to mess with Roe.  
"He's right, Joe, don't be an asshole," barks Johnny Martin, one of the oldest in the group gathered around couple of tables in their favorite pizza joint - not that anyone would call it a restaurant, really. "Thanks to Luz and Toye here we know about a kid who apparently needs some support. And since we are not a bunch of good for nothing dickheads, we'll help him. You've got a problem with that? We need to go outside, Joseph?"  
Seeing the stink eye Bull is giving him, Liebgott has enough common sense to at least look sorry.  
"It's the right thing to do... Spina, do leave my pineapple alone, please," says Gene Roe with his soft, melodic Southern accent and a frown. Spina does not leave said pineapple alone, at least until Bull's big hands rest heavy on his shoulders and Gene with dignity takes back small pieces of fruit.  
"If he really has an asshole dad, kid will need all the help he can get," adds Buck while reaching for the pitcher filled with lemonade. He says it lightly but there's something dark in his gaze and in his furrowed eyebrows. "Trust me."  
"And you said adults can't do a thing?"  
Toye shakes his head in answer to Webster's question, his mouth too full with pizza slice to say anything. Luz snorts.  
"Social morons don't care, Web. Gotta do it without them."  
"Peer help, or something like that," mutters Martin. "So, boys? Any ideas how to help the kid?"  
The table falls silent - but only for a second. Then it fills with chatter and soon everyone is talking at once.

Albert Blithe didn't really know what to think. For the last couple of days something changed, actually, a couple of things. First, no one was laughing at him when he was standing in the yard and looking up, at clouds passing over his head. Then that huge football player from senior class simply ignored him instead of hitting Albert or pushing him into rows of lockers, as he usually does. It was a good change, weird one but good. Not that he is going to get used to this. Albert had a lot of experience with change - he knows very well that good things go away rather sooner than later.  
And, well, there is also the lunch thing. He was going to sit all by himself, as usual, and carefully, not wanting to jostle still hurting ribs, eat his sandwiches. But then a big but careful hand steered him towards different corner of the cafeteria.  
"No reason for you to eat alone," Bull smiled at him and winked. "More fun in a group."  
Bull is huge and slightly scary so when he tells you you're eating with him, you shut up, sit down and eat with him in hopes he won't beat you up (though o one ever saw Bull hitting anyone. He was just a scary looking motherfucker). Albert, like every other looser in Patton, knows it. He also knows that Bull is a Currahee - as groups, gangs and cliques go, Currahee's weren't too bad. Loud, in your face and with a penchant for destruction - yeah. But they didn't bully and that makes them ok in Albert's book.  
So he sits down at the crowded table, tries very hard not to look in anyone's eyes and eats. Over his head, Johnny Martin and Penkala exchange glances, Babe offers Albert his apple with a shy smile.  
"Thanks," says Blithe quietly, taking the fruit. Toye laughs at that.  
"It speaks!" He informs the world triumphantly and accidentally hits Albert's ribs with his elbow. The boy's hiss of pain goes unnoticed.  
Well, almost.  
Next morning Gene Roe grabs Albert even before first period, drags him to the men's bathroom and carefully wraps boy's ribcage with elastic bandage.  
"Anything happens, you need help, you come to me. Understand?"  
Albert nods, not liking dark look in Gene's eyes, and flees the room, hoping that's the end of it.

  
Let's just say, it's not.

  
Slowly Currahees take over his life. Since he lives close to Muck and Penkala, they walk with him to school - but when he's coming back home, usually one of the bigger boys in accompanying him, like Bull or Buck. Spina and Babe help with his homework and tests, Gene makes sure he eats, Luz and Toye recruit Albert's help in prank war.  
"Why the hell are you so nice to me, huh?" Blythe asks Web one day. The older boy looks up from Albert's essay on "Hamlet" and snorts.  
"We're not assholes," he says like it explains everything. Seeing Albert's confusion, he simply shakes his head. "Look, Buck has his own bed in Skip's house because his mom's boyfriend is no fun to be around. Malark's dad works nights and it's only the two of them so sometimes he stays with Penkala or me, Roe works too hard on his pre-med so Bull drags him and Babe for pizza or to arcade... and Joe's parents took me in after my own had a meltdown when I came out to them and they let me live with them for a couple of weeks. See? Not assholes. You have a problem, kid, and you need a family the same way everyone else. Just... enjoy. It may be a disfunctional and insane family but it's ours, you know?"  
Albert stays silent for a moment because the idea of having them around for good, that be won't be left alone again, is too much. Or maybe precisely enough?  
"Yeah. I know."

The thing they never tell you about families is this: you get to pick your own. Blood and tradition are nothing without love and respect. Love and respect don't need blood and tradition to be real.

That's why when Gene becomes Doc Roe and graduates Med school, the whole gang is there, loudly cheering and laughing. They even have a sign with "Currahee" in blue and red lettering. Albert doesn't really remember the celebrations that followed - well, no one does. Maybe except for Bull, who always smiles enigmatically when that particular night is mentioned but he never says, why.  
Only that a monkey, a can of peaches and two very angry hookers were involved.

  
Or when Muck's wife gives birth to their first child, a daughter, first Currahee kid, everyone still living in the area is in the waiting room with Doc running interference with hospital staff. Muck faints. Albert, now married and expecting his first kid, is the one mocking hm the loudest.

  
And yes, when Webster and Liebgott pull their heads from their asses and decide to finally get married (there was a very serious betting pool dating back to Patton High), the gang goes to their wedding. Even though it's in Hamptons and they all need to wear suits.

  
No one really knows who the hell thought organizing Currahee Christmas in Montana was a good idea - betting pool says Luz (though Johnny Martin comes perfectly prepared for cold and snow. Suspiciously so, since he lives in Florida). But well, they pack themselves, wives (or husbands) and kids to cars, plains or trains and go to the fucking Montana because that's what you do for family Christmas. Of course they get snowed in on Christmas morning and are unable to leave before New Years... but who cares? Even if it's cold and windy and snow gets into places it shouldn't have access to, all you need to feel home is your family. You know, the real one, made of love, respect and maybe a couple of fireworks.

**Author's Note:**

> It should've been longer, I know - but I actually wrote something completely different and decided I hated it so something needed to be written instead (two days before deadline, yeah...).


End file.
